Star wars: The Koprulu wars
by StarcraftWOOT
Summary: The Rebellion lost the battle of Hoth - badly. Luke Skywalker was KIA. Yet amidst what seems to be a new golden age for the Galactic Empire, Sidious orders Vader to investigate a section of the unknown regions. So begins the next great Galactic war...
1. 1: Prelude

"What is thy bidding, my master?"

"Lord Vader, you are later than I expected you."

Vader knelt down in front of the emperor, biting back a scathing retort. He was indeed later than expected - he had decided to follow a lead meant to bring him to general Jan Dodonna. The maneuver had turned out to be a desperate trap, one Vader's death squadron handled with utmost prejudice.

"I was waylaid, my master. The Rebels-"

"Are of no concern, Lord Vader. Their hero is slain, their remaining holdouts pushed to hiding and desperate traps. They are no longer of concern!" Palpatine spat.

Vader listened, though less to the words and more the tone. He had heard this from the emperor before, but before now, he had sensed none of the urgency and anger he sensed now from Palpatine.

The empire had defeated the rebels badly at Hoth, the remaining members nearly no threat to the galactic empire. The plans for the second death star - something that had been delayed for some time - were mothballed in favor of several new Executor-class star dreadnoughts for the time being, with plans to start on a new death star once the economic state of the empire flourished again, free of the rebellion's incessant buzzing.

The Galactic Empire was at peace, it's enemies crushed and their figureheads broken.

So what, then, could trouble Palpatine in such a manner?

Instead of asking that question, however, Lord Vader inclined his head. "I understand, my master. What would you ask of me, then?"

Palpatine's gaze mollified, satisfied with the lack of resistance on Vader's part.  
"I'm sending you to a part of the Unknown regions. I require you to go there and investigate a specific coordinate. It has been sent to the Executor's computer. You will make haste - I will not tolerate interruption in your course."

"Yes, my master…" Vader paused for a moment, aware of how to mollify the emperor, before continuing. Allowing a short pause between a request, after an acknowledgement of acceptance, caused his master to be more malleable. Vader believed it to be due to Palpatine's own ego, his generosity increasing once it was properly stroked.

Vader wondered if Palpatine himself was aware of this fact. Perhaps he was truly unaware… Or, perhaps, he was aware and simply made no move to correct this flaw.

"More information would allow my investigation to continue much faster..." Vader said, keeping his voice low and tone respectful.

Palpatine's leer decreased. "Yes…" Palpatine replied, pausing before finally saying his own piece.

"You are looking for a planet. The inhabitants will name it… Korhal."

Vader nodded, silently reflecting. Palpatine was withholding information from him, that was certain. He understood his master's mannerisms, and he hadn't seen him this guarded, this tense, since the destruction of the death star.

But this was different from the white-hot rage that had followed the death star's destruction.

This was not anger. this was fear.

He had experienced a vision. And whatever he had seen caused him fear.

Vader came to agree with his master. Whatever it was Palpatine had seen in the Koprulu sector, it behooved him to make haste.

He was either going to find the key to taking the throne from Palpatine, once and for all… Or, alternatively, the possibility of the destruction of the Galactic empire.

Either way, his force-attuned senses told him that Korhal was going to be an important moment in his life.

-Elsewhere-

The Overmind: The heart of the zerg. In essence, the Overmind truly was the zerg, for all zerg followed his will. From the Haughtiest Cerebrate to the smallest Larva, all zerg existed only to serve his will. To disobey his wishes: Impossible. To go against his orders: unthinkable, in the literal sense of the word. Even his cerebrates, given a separate sentience outside of his own, were truly only minute fractions of the Overmind's will given form. The zerg themselves did not truly exist without the overmind, and the Overmind did not truly exist without the zerg.

Thus it was that when the overmind sensed a warp signature unlike any other it had felt, bristling with weapons and armor the equal of a protoss vessel, the cerebrates could feel the nervousness the Overmind felt, a feeling passed down through their psychic link.

As one, responding to the calling they felt reverberate through their being, they moved themselves to a conference room in whatever hive or wasteland they were situated within at the time. Bio-organic electricity powered view-screens and audio feeds made entirely of living matter, and the cerebrates responded to their master.

The wormlike cerebrates gathered in their viewing room, the large, segmented creatures paying attention to the different screens that showed their kin and comrades from across the stars.

"I have seen a power, controlling the stars. His strength is vast and dark, like a black hole among the stars. He leads an empire, more massive even than our own, and if left unchecked, he will destroy the swarm."  
Zasz was the first to respond. "Stronger than the swarm? Impossible. We are without number. we-" Zasz found himself suddenly silenced, the psionic power of the overmind briefly washing over him.

"His army is vast. Their ships bristling with weaponry… and their psychic power unique. Their leader's power is beyond the level of even the protoss."

Zasz immediately calmed, more willing to understand what the overmind had to say. In truth, Zasz had realized it's error the moment the Overmind had silenced him. Despite their odd and often eccentric personalities, the cerebrates had always been allowed to speak their mind in front of the Overmind, even if the Overmind himself disagreed, and he was indulgent to a fault. This was in part because of the fact the Overmind, despite it's wish to assimilate all into the zerg, was not itself possessed of anger or avarice, save when it came to harm that came to the zerg themselves. When speaking to the cerebrates, it's kin and intellectual peers, no malice was ever present. It was also in part due to the Overmind's understanding that listening to different viewpoints helped it broaden and strengthen it's own intelligence. If it felt the need to be this forceful with it's viewpoint.

"I apologize. It is not the right of a cerebrate to contradict the overmind."

The Overmind continued, unapologetic for it's forcefulness. Without malice it might be, but it was also without apology for it's own actions - save when they were of detriment to the swarm. It took a moment, thinking of what to propose next, before speaking.

"A force sent by these beings has been sent towards the terran world of Korhal, Probing at the edges of our influence. We will watch firsthand how they react upon meeting the terrans…" The Overmind said, allowing a brief pause to himself before continuing.

"I feel the Chrysalis coming to completion. And yet many broods are on char, capable of keeping the chrysalis safe. Perhaps it is time the young one broadened it's understanding of the universe." The Overmind mused.

"Cerebrate."

The creature in question made a simple motion with it's tail to respond. The cerebrate in question was young, having yet to earn a name at it's tender age. The purple markings of it's shell marked it as among the Jormungand brood cerebrates.

"You will bring a force towards one of the moons orbiting Korhal. Stay out of detection range of the terran forces located there, and monitor the situation. Prepare your forces for travel through the warp." the Overmind commanded.

Daggoth, at this point, spoke up. "Allow me to send some of my forces with the young cerebrate as well. It will give the cerebrate some experience of working with other broods… as well as allowing for someone with experience to oversee the cerebrate's first mission of such scope."

"Yes… As you have said, Daggoth, someone with experience will be necessary. Find the keystone to our final victory. Work with the young cerebrate, analyze every chink within their armor, every flaw within their mind. We will exploit every one of them in turn… Cause pain using every weakness, and making every strength our own. For We are Zerg."


	2. 2: First Contact

"Lord Vader, we're coming out of hyperspace… Lord Vader?" The imperial officer's voice shook Vader out of his meditation.

"_Intriguing_". Force potential, but shaped in a different way than he had ever felt before. None of the potential he had felt was very strong, with even the highest of their force signatures being less than a quarter of his own. However, the fact that he could feel hundreds of them on the surface of the planet they were now near… interesting. None of them even noticed his subtle probing, though he could sense a few of the more canny and trained grow at unease.

They sensed his power, and they feared him. As they should.

Vader realized the officer was still waiting on his orders.

"Inform me of your sensor readings, Commander." Vader said simply.

"We appear to be near at least ten different massive ships. All of them over a kilometer long. They appear to be using inefficient fusion drives… All of them are unshielded, but possess a complement of plasma-based laser batteries. Some nuclear missiles, as well."

"Do they appear to be a threat?"

"...No, Lord Vader. Their battery complements are inferior to ours, and their laser systems are low level for a capital ship. They might be able to beat a single star destroyer together, but not the whole fleet." The commander said after some thought.

"And the planet? Korhal?"  
"Desert world from our scans. It appears to have advanced industrialization and a population in the billions. Evidence of terraforming and nuclear fallout."

Vader pondered this. So the locals still used nuclear missiles - a commodity now banned in the empire. Most yields attained by the empire were considered relatively useless in the current era of combat - their destructive capacity had been surpassed and their radiation fallout, while useful in the short-term for area denial, was too prone to unintentionally making areas uninhabitable. Areas potentially rich in natural resources and other useful commodities in the empire.

Another voice from the lower deck of the bridge caught his attention. His communications officer.

"Lord Vader! We have attempted contact from planetside!"

"Project a hologram onto the bridge… if these primitives are capable of even that simple a technology." Vader said with disdain. In truth, he was attempting to understand what, exactly, he needed to do about this… entire civilization, it seemed.

Ten capital vessels shown so nonchalantly was nearly impossible for any single world. This meant he had stumbled upon what may be an entire Civilization that had developed outside of the galactic empire's reach.

His first thought was the fact that such was unacceptable. They would require subjugation under the rule of the empire. Vader wouldn't give them the chance to instead forge alliance with the rebels.

His second thought was that while everything he had discovered so far - the numerous force signatures, the fleet now surrounding his own, the unique technological bent this race - judging from what he could see out of the windows of the Executor - appeared to have…

None of this added up to Palpatine's fear. A FTL-capable civilization of this nature, while interesting, could hardly threaten the power of the galactic empire. And despite how common the force-sensitives here seemed to be, they, too, were of no threat to Palpatine or himself.

Something was still missing from this picture.

A soft whine was heard as the Hologram projector came to life, and Vader looked up to see what looked like an older man with a formidable beard. His clothes seemed to be a mixture of rustic and Royal, with a beige color theme.

In Vader's opinion, the man looked ridiculous. But like all other men, his taste in clothes did not truly matter. What mattered was what use he could be to Vader.

"Greetings. I am Emperor Arcturus Mengsk, head of the Terran Dominion. I am honored to meet you fine gentlemen."

The man had an amiable, fatherly manner about him. To someone unversed in politics, he seemed a humble, wise gentleman.

To Vader, he could see through such an act, but he was impressed at just how well this terran masked himself. Even his mind, as Vader saw it, was labyrinthine, hiding his thoughts through sheer will and misdirection. If this were a man working within the Galactic empire, he would be someone Palpatine would assign as governor of a core sector - and then watch closely, tempering the man's ambitions with subtle reminders of his place in Palpatine's larger system.

Here, on the other hand… Mengsk instead apparently had control of an entire private empire, all to himself. He'd even crowned himself an emperor.

This was, of course, unacceptable to Vader.

"I am Lord Vader, of the Galactic Empire. Tell me of this Terran Dominion you control."

Mengsk's brow furrowed slightly, the only sign of anger on his countenance. Anger was one of the principle emotions of the dark side though, and it could not be hidden from Vader. Vader was impressed and amused at the same time - amused, in that simply attempting to command this self-styled emperor produced hatred he could feel radiating out of the man like the energy of a supernova, and impressed that such an animalistic being could hide it so well. In truth, Mengsk was an animalistic beast wearing the skin of an aristocratic noble. If he'd had potential in the force, Vader could see the man being a powerful sith himself.

But in the end, he had no such power, and thus Vader simply continued to listen to the man - both to his words and to the writhing anger he could hear from out of the depths of Mengsk's soul.

"The Terran Dominion is a great conglomerate of the human nations of the Koprulu sector. I rule the Dominion, after saving the human nations from the evil tyranny of the confederacy before it. Hundreds of worlds fall under our benevolent protection, and we are reaching a new age of human prosperity. Our enemies are in retreat, and our will stronger than ever." Mengsk's voice and passion increased every syllable, a calculated way to show his resolve and integrity. One Vader didn't fall for in the slightest. "But… I am interested in your own holdings. Your technology appears to be quite impressive, Lord Vader." Mengsk smiled a benevolent smile.

Vader gave a small signal to his command bridge. They began preparing the Executor for any heavy combat, though they would not power up the weaponry until Vader signaled them specifically to do so.

"I am interested in these enemies of yours." Vader said, ignoring Mengsk's earlier comment. "Tell me of them."

Vader felt the anger swell again within Mengsk, and he secretly relished it. A lingering habit from his younger days, he always had felt a certain pleasure from irritating the pompous and arrogant. Of course, as he grew older he'd realized frightening them was far preferable, but that would wait until he'd wringed everything useful out of the man.

"They have been driven back and are of no concern at this time." Mengsk replied evenly, his tone smooth still.

"I didn't ask for their current activities. I asked for information concerning them."  
"And I asked for a little understanding of your own empire." Mengsk replied with a friendly smirk.

So, the fool thought he was clever.

"You are testing my patience severely, Mengsk. Do not attempt to find out it's limit."

Mengsk looked away from the screen and sighed, seemingly hurt. "I'm attempting to speak civilly with you, as one would to his equal. I apologize if I seemed forward - but only one of us is volunteering information at all, while you, on the other hand, seem guarded."  
"Your mistake was in assuming that we're equals. Or that we have the goal of parlaying with you." Vader said, his patience at an end. Moreover, he realized the game this Mengsk was playing, the fact his chief concern was keeping his power. He had met men like him before, within the empire, and even if they appeared to surrender to higher powers, they were like a cobra - waiting until they could find an unprotected flank and devour what they perceived as their oppressors. Mengsk reminded him of the Separatist leaders more than anyone.

"I'll offer you a simple deal. Kneel before me now, accept me as your lord, and hostilities between us will cease. The emperor might even allow you to continue holding a position as Governor of this… Korhal. Understand - our might and our vision is far above yours. The Galactic empire has controlled the rest of the Galaxy for decades. Your empire is not in a position to negotiate."

"Don't go down this road. Don't cross me." Mengsk spat, as a fire visible even through the hologram shone through his eyes. "I've sacrificed too much and done too many things to lose it all to some joker in a cheap suit. Continue along this path and I will burn your little fleet down to cinders before you even have the chance to run."

Ahh, now here was the true man baring his fangs.

The cheap suit Mengsk had mentioned was the only thing concealing Vader's grin. His fleet had seen little action recently. His captains had been showing signs of boredom recently. this was the perfect thing to deal with their itchy trigger fingers. the battle would be just challenging enough to stimulate them appropriately.

"For all your bluster, Mengsk, the only thing you're about to succeed in doing is signing your own death warrant. Allow me to show you and your deluded Dominion exactly what it means to cross the empire."

Vader switched the hologram off with a gesture and a subtle push with the force. He didn't expect to ever see the man again - alive, at least.

"Power up weapons, raise the shields. Don't leave a single ship standing."

"Yes, lord Vader."  
"And get the soldiers ready. Land them in an open area near the position Mengsk's signal came from. I want him before me."

"Do you wish him alive or dead, my lord?"

"Either would please me."

Several darkened shapes sat at just the edge of terran sensor range, flitting just behind the Star destroyer's without fear. Why should they? Zerg bio-signatures were well-known by now to the terran… but the same couldn't be said for this new player, seeming inexperienced with biological ships. The Overlords sitting just at the edge of their vision used a mixture of their own tiny portion of psionic power, boosted in strength by their Cerebrate's power as they psionically hacked into the transmission, an ability requiring such precision only the Overmind's chosen themselves were capable of it.

"You see, cerebrate?" Daggoth said to his younger compatriot. "This ability was one I myself invented. It has now been passed down to you. Use it well to aid the Overmind."

the other Cerebrate gave the psychic equivalent of a nod, still deigning to hold it's tongue. This was typical of younger cerebrates, particularly those who had yet to fully form a unique personality just yet, but Daggoth decided to push his junior. While he understood the nervousness of the younger cerebrate - he himself had felt similarly when first placed in the presence of the overmind - allowing a cerebrate to withdraw in on himself tended to allow eccentric personalities to form. They didn't need another cerebrate like Gorn, known for his brood's cannibalism and inability to even work with other cerebrates, speaking evenly only with the overmind himself.

"_Cerebrate… Tell me of your thoughts regarding the exchange between the terran and the machine-creature_." Daggoth asked, using his psionic abilities to converse. Cerebrates relied entirely on speaking through thought, as their physical forms lacked any hint of a mouth.

The other Cerebrate's expression was thoughtful, and Daggoth realized it had yet to truly think on any matter such as this. Other than finishing assigned missions with some inspired skill and tactics - A level of skill even the Overmind had been surprised by - the young cerebrate had never sought to understand such political matters before.

After a moment of thought, the cerebrate finally replied:

"_Both are confident."_" The Cerebrate finally replied.

Daggoth was pleased. The Cerebrate answered honestly, and hadn't attempted to add any conceit or bias to it's opinion, at least. it had answered, more importantly.

"_What does that mean, Cerebrate?_" Daggoth asked him, pushing him to think further.

"_One is wrong… Or…_" The Cerebrate thought a little harder.

"_Both sides are equal._"

Daggoth noted the pride in the Cerebrate's voice, the gentle probing, and realized the Cerebrate was looking for approval from him. Interesting… He had not known any cerebrate to have that trait before. He'd seen it in countless terrans, but…

Daggoth was interrupted from his musings as the sound of Laser-fire was heard clearly by his overlords.

"The battle begins, Cerebrate. Pay close attention - even the smallest detail may give us the key to evolution."


	3. 3: The Battle Of Korhal, part 1

The Battle Of Korhal: Part One

"Fire." Needa said casually, watching from his windows as the strange hammerhead ships began to open fire themselves.

Streaks of red light flew through the vacuum of space, striking his ship with dozens of different impacts, smashing his shields with surprising force. The lasers these new ships were using seemed primitive from their scanners, but appeared to be slightly stronger than projections. They weren't using gas-based delivery systems and instead were built for direct laser projection, but the laser focus must have been superior to the type used by imperial ships.

* * *

Captain Needa found that interesting: A new bounty of this system, one that could perhaps be put to better use later, in the imperial arsenal.

Looking towards the enemy ship closest to his own, he watched with an impassive look as the ship was struck dozens of times with turbolaser fire, the shield-less ship taking the force less than gently. several of these ships were able to fire dozens of different laser batteries at his ships with minimal success.

The _Avenger _was firing hundreds, and as the green streaks of turbolaser fire burnt the front of the nearest battlecruiser to an orange molten mush, punctuated by the ion cannons draining what power was left in the battlecruiser, and Needa permitted himself a small smile. The _Avenger_ had already gained it's first kill, and it's shields were still at half power on the worst fronts. It seemed these primitive natives would be wiped out in no-

"Captain Needa!" A panicked voice yelled, and Needa jumped a little. Rather than asking the officer what the trouble was, Needa simply looked out of his viewscreen.

one of the other enemy ships had used the wreckage of Needa's now-slagged target to move into firing range, and build up what appeared to be a red mass of energy as wide as the front of the ship it was focused in front of.

Needa's Technical officer was yelling about the focused power of the energy being a nuclear reaction beyond any scale they had ever seen before, but Needa didn't need the technical specifics to know what he needed to do in this situation. "Bring the ship around to left flank! Our shields there are still at full strength! We can withstand this!"

Needa took a breath, reasoning that such a powerful weapon couldn't be brought about so quickly, and closed his eyes.

Needa was fortunate, for he never saw the red Beam of energy coming towards the Avenger, nor did he see it cut through the shields with minimal resistance and tear the ship in half from stem to stern. Instead, Captain Needa was merely vaporized in the massive fireball caused by the destruction of the _Avenger_'s reactor , his last thought that no crew of primitives could possibly touch the _Avenger _with him in command.

* * *

"It appears the _Avenger _has been lost. Fool… Needa simply tried to push through the enemy with no respect for their skill." Blitzar Harrsk said with a scowl. "Launch the TIE's. Let's soften up our opponent before we fight them ourselves."

Blitzar watched the sensor data of the fight, noticing the red blips indicating the Ships the foreigners were using appear and then disappear after some time. Each star destroyer in Death squadron other than his own were finding two or three opponents for themselves, with the force of twelve Vader had amassed under his command finding themselves outnumbered. It appeared these people were not to be underestimated - as he assumed Needa had undoubtedly done.

He watched the ties launch from his fighter bays - joined by many from his fellow Star destroyers as the space between their ships were filled with black and grey gnats, flitting out from under his ship - and watched them break off into squadrons, squadrons of tie fighters flying in formation to cover the flanks of the bombers. Harrsk watched as the ties flew close to the enemy ship, bays of it's own opening from the sides of the hammerhead.

Harrsk was confused by what he saw, however.

"What do the scanners say is located in their hangar area?"  
"Some personnel, what appears to be a few inactive transport ships, and some miscellaneous supplies. Nothing else, sir."

So his eyes hadn't deceived him - at least, any more than the scanners might. They appeared to have nothing in these open hangars… This wasn't correct. Harrsk knew better than to assume this was simply a useless move on the parts of his opponent.

Harrsk found himself proven right a few seconds later, as three TIE fighters suddenly exploded, as though they had spontaneously combusted.

"What's happening!" Harrsk said with impatience.

"Scanners are picking up the remains of missile components.

Cloaked missiles, launched from the Hangar directly?

A second pair of explosions followed the first, and this time Harrsk started to realize what was going on, as a pair of missiles seemed to simply appear behind a TIE bomber and encapsulate it in a huge explosion.

"Are scans getting anything?" Harrsk asked.

"Nothing, sir… If this is cloaking technology, we don't have the sensor suites to deal with it.

Fighters, cloaked fighters, Harrsk realized. That would be the only reason the missiles would be visible at all - This cloaking technology was too advanced to pass it off as simply insufficient power for a cloaked missile.

He could feel the rocking of his ship as several of those missiles now struck the back of the Fist of Ithmar's shield arrays, and he knew he needed to work out a counter-measure before he lost his ship to an explosion of it's own Hypermatter from a stray missile to the engines.

* * *

Private Tom Kazansky flipped a pair of switches as he felt his cloaking shut off. his squad leader had given the signal to turn off cloaking to conserve power as they engaged a separate squadron of TIE's, and not a moment too soon, as his cloaking energy dipped dangerously low. Unlike the rest of the squadron, Kazansky had to make do with an older wraith model, equipped with one of the delphic reactors rather than the newer apollo-class.

"_What I get for saving the dominion from certain doom, I guess._" Kazansky thought. Originally the touted "best pilot in the galaxy" by his peers, and one of a very small percent of pilots who could claim to be able to go head-to-head with a protoss fighter and win, Kazansky had followed his commanding officer's orders to help the Protoss destroy a zerg cerebrate controlled by the terrorist Alan Schezar.

After forging an alliance, they managed to stop a zerg threat from one of the dominion's foremost terrorists from becoming the new power in the galaxy, using things like an unkillable ultralisk measuring fifty feet tall and able to break a garrison of thousands like it was coffee paper, and a Cerebrate brood supplemented with terran armor for back-up.

His reward for that was demotion due to going against orders, being the only _private_ ranked Wraith pilot in the Terran dominion. The only reason Kazansky was alive - outside of his own marketed image - was Mengsk's worry of angering the protoss by executing him. Tom found it unlikely that Mojo, the protoss leader he'd allied with, would order a purification over just him, but Mengsk was apparently unwilling to take that risk.

Unless, of course, he could write it off as Tom dying in the heat of combat, using an outdated wraith model. Something that wouldn't remotely be Mengsk's fault.

Bastard.

Tom decided to stop thinking about that, however, and start thinking about the Eyeball-shaped fighters ahead of his wraith. The Squadron came around and fired their silvery Gemini missiles as fast as they dared, the weapons impacting and destroying the eyeball-ships with a brilliant explosion. More of them appeared behind them, however, and Tom brought his ship into a quick side-roll to dodge a barrage of Laser fire. One of his fellow pilots wasn't so lucky, and after a few strikes from green-tinged lasers the Wraith exploded in a brilliant display, it's fusion engine breaking in a cataclysmic explosion that pushed the wraiths next to it sideways from the shockwave.

"Evasive Maneuvers. Wait until the rest of the squadron catches up to our own." Kazansky heard through his radio-link, though it was difficult to hear his squad leader through the static that seemed to constantly be in the radio transmissions. Kazansky wondered if these bogeys weren't jamming their communications. Either way, it was a good excuse to break off from orders and save these boys.

Moving to the right, Kazansky rolled his wraith down and underneath the rest of the ships, engaging his cloak for only a second as he did so, while slowing down his engines to a quarter speed.

Kazansky continued the roll until his wraith was oriented right-side up, bringing himself right behind the eyeball-ships tailing his squadron.

Perfect.

Kazansky wasted no time, firing one gemini missile as he came up before firing the second while banking, taking out two fighters in the span of less than a second. He opted to use a trio of belly-mounted burst lasers to take out the third, fourth and fifth fighters, and worked his way towards the middle of the fighter formation before the rest could react.

The middle fighter appeared to be of a bulkier design, with a design similar to the bomber-craft that had unsuccessfully attempted to push past the Wraith lines and destroy the enemy battlecruisers, but with an additional wing on it's top. Before Tom could get to it, the ship fired a flurry of homing missiles straight for a pair of wraiths - including his squadron leader.

The wraith's shields failed under the barrage, and the craft were destroyed in brilliant fireballs. Kazansky allowed himself a fraction of a second to feel sadness for the loss of two more pilots he'd just started to like, before redirecting his focus to dealing with their killer. A full barrage of his belly-mounted burst laser and a pair of missiles proved more than enough to destroy the fat eyeball ship.

As the rest of the enemy fighter squadron veered off, his last shots going between the wings of the tiny craft, Kazansky realized the squad just lost their 2 commanding officers in a time where radio communication was too spotty to get a clear signal from their battlecruiser.

"As our captain and lieutenant died, I feel it's my responsibility to…"

No. Not him. "Shut it Dunsil. We both know you can't do shit."

"My rank outstrips yours, Kazansky. And if we…"

"My experience outstrips yours, Dunsil. And we've got fighters on our tail no matter where we turn. Now, you wanna win this thing and get out alive, or do you wanna die on your own complaining about rank? Because we both know you've never commanded, and I'm not flying to me death.."

The Radio was silent, and Tom Kazansky knew he had just gotten his way.

* * *

Vader watched the battle from space, the _Executor_ firing barrages constantly on Ozzel's mark. The admiral had been getting on his nerves, and more than once Vader had considered ridding the empire of his stupidity in a very final way, but even he would have no difficulties directing this battle, as the _Executor_ fired constant barrages of turbolaser fire, melting enemy ships to slag in as little as seconds with their thousands of laser batteries. He was impressed, however, with the native's resistance.

This battle had begun with only ten battlecruisers in orbit, but Mengsk had apparently not been lying about the Dominion's battlecruiser supply. Dozens of them had appeared since their conversation, and even now the _Avenger_ had now fallen to the might of these strange nuclear cannons. It appeared divergent technological development had allowed for many exotic technologies to appear in this region of space.

"There seem to be no end to these ships. six more entering the system from lightspeed at mark 1D45J.

"That's fine. Why do we care if they bring in more ships? We'll simply continue destroying them just as quickly?" Ozzel said confidently, the smile on his face one which Vader rarely saw a man of intelligence or dignity ever use. How appropriate that he saw it on Ozzel's face so often.

""And they'll continue cutting into the fleet with their unknown numbers. Don't be a fool, Ozzel." Vader cut across him. "We will end this battle quickly. The fleet should have their carriers ready by now. Launch them to Korhal. We will end this ridiculous battle with the capture of their capital and leader, using the might of the imperial army, ."

Ozzel shook his head with an arrogant expression. "Lord Vader, there is no need to waste valuable stormtrooper's lives on this battle. We have-"

"The _Ithmar's fist_ and the _Stalker_ are showing damage, and the _Avenger_ has been destroyed. Spare me your useless opinions, Ozzel. It has been decided. We will crush them with the military might of the imperial army. I will take to subjugating their emperor... personally. "

* * *

Captain Bolshev scratched his chin, the only concession he would make to his own stress levels reaching high levels. His battlecruiser, the CSF, now DSF _Ragnarok_, had survived the fall of the Confederacy, and had been involved in several skirmishes with the zerg and the now-ruling sons of korhal across the sector. Bolshev was considered an ideal captain, and had gained numerous honors, even after joining the Dominion fleet, though his promotions through the ranks had slowed due to his rivalry with the slimy but higher-ranking Colonel Jackson Hauler causing a large amount of political backlash.

Still, Bolshev had never seen the fleet so totally and utterly incapable of fighting back before. These star destroyers were not invincible, but they were bristling with weapons and able to tear through any ship they caught unawares like so much paper. Already, three dozen Behemoth-class battlecruisers had fallen to imperial ships.

This was not the only factor impacting their performance, of course. One of their ships - identified only a minute ago by one of Bolshev's tactical officers - seemed to be sending out signals that jammed all communication.

In a different battle, the nine ships that had been arrayed against them would have been a much fairer match, but their co-ordination allowed them to guard weakened ships from combat and allow them to recover their strange shielding. Meanwhile, the battlecruisers arrayed against them had to play a guessing game as to what course of action to take, unable to adequately support their fellow ships or the Wraith squadrons they launched.

Communication could only take place at extremely short distances, and any battlecruisers that attempted to gain this sort of distance between each other were quickly focused upon by the enemy ships, the wedge-like destroyers capable of destroying battlecruisers caught in their path with High-level laser systems like nothing the Terrans had ever seen before.

"Bearing on my mark, Zed-Two, Quadrant Five." Bolshev ordered, hoping to get closer to the ship disrupting communications. Far too split off from the rest of the fleet, and hounded by the strange grey bomber-craft that were weak compared to a wraith fighter but as numerous as flies, Bolshev couldn't hope on getting close enough for active communication.

Unlike the other Behemoth-class battlecruisers that he noted were moving to engage the nearest capital vessels near Korhal, Bolshev had been busying himself attempting to disperse their fighters, an action to allow his fellow ships to concentrate on the larger ships., along with the Wraith squadrons already launched and focused on the task, the Ragnarok had cut the swarm of the bat-winged fighters to manageable levels. Already, the ties that had once swarmed around the battlecruisers like angry bees had shrunk to a noticeable fraction of their former size.

"Mark!" Bolshev yelled, and held onto one of the beams in his ship.

Making such a short-distance warp jump was difficult on the engines, and Ragnarok was already over-taxed, but Bolshev had managed to appear just in front of and under the communications ship.

Bolshev's anti-grav boots held him down more than the railing, but Bolshev had never fully gotten used to the crushing, sucking feeling Warp drive always caused for a human body, and ever since he had accidentally given himself a concussion from a bad slip during a warp jump, he'd made damned sure to use the guard-rail.

the battle almost seemed to stop in place for a brief second, lasers and missiles stopping in place, before the ship seemed to be bathed in blue light for a moment, the movement through space so fast Bolshev's eyes were simply incapable of accurately processing any information given of the Faster-than-light particles surrounding him.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, the warp jump was finished, and Bolshev found his ship to be located just below the imperial armada.

What he saw made him freeze.

The Wedge-ships, including the large wedge ship in the center, had just dropped a flotilla of smaller ships, appearing by design to be some form of troop carrier. Hundreds were dropping from the different craft, particularly the large middle-ship, and Bolshev knew that actually shooting all of them down would be impossible.

They intended to attack Korhal from the ground, and with the communications so thoroughly jammed Bolshev wouldn't be capable of sending out a warning.

Blast! Part of Bolshev cursed how reliant they'd become on communications technology now so thoroughly jammed. If only…

An idea sparked in Bolshev's mind. Sending complex messages without any communicator was useless, but sending a simple signal…

"Helmsman, set a course for Zed-four, quadrant three. Set all but the rearmost cannons to work on destroying some of those troop carriers.

"Yes, Captain." His helmsman agreed without questioning, as Bolshev knew he would. they always respected his planning, and years of camaraderie and work together had rid his crew of the questioning glances they often gave him in his earlier years. The _Ragnarok_ was the only battlecruiser in history that had operated without a single change in personnel in it's service time, and the crew trusted him and each other with their life.

"Set the rearmost cannons to fire a grouping of timed pulses upwards. we will alternate between standard discharge and firing a blast for thrice the normal length of time…"

Bolshev just hoped there were others in the fleet with a comprehension of morse code.

* * *

Closer to Korhal, in formation away from the fighting, the cybernetic construct Magellan stood aboard his science vessel and watched as the fighting continued to turn against the Terrans. While he would have preferred to increase the terran fleet's chances by bringing his own science vessel into the fray, creating forcefields to protect the battlecruisers and bringing his own electronic counter-measures to bear against the jamming being done by one of the enemy ships, Mengsk had ordered him to stay behind, in case he might need use of the science vessel's capability to protect him on Korhal.

Magellan would have sighed if he were a human. If that fleet continued to destroy dominion battlecruisers one after the other, Magellan's science vessel would do little to stop the enemy fleet of star destroyers from simply destroying Mengsk and the planet he lived on, even with his strongest force fields.

Magellan would have disobeyed in the name of the dominion, as he had before in order to dispatch Schezar, but Mengsk had added specific directives in his programming forbidding him from doing so since the Enslaver incident with Alan Schezar, occurring now a month ago. Despite the fact they were correct in their assumption regarding the fact that helping the protoss was the only way to stop Mengsk from having a new front of Zerg under a dangerous terrorist's control, Mengsk cared more about the fact that Magellan disobeyed his orders in the first place.

Of course, Magellan was working on circumventing the control, but it was difficult work, and Magellan doubted he could complete it in time for this battle was over, despite how simplistic the algorithms were to his cybernetic genius.

Magellan's scanners picked up odd emissions, and a low hum informed him of this fact. One of the battlecruisers was firing an irregular laser configuration, and at seemingly nothing. Magellan looked over the data, his enhanced brain processing thousands of different possibilities, only taking a couple seconds to realize the most likely conclusion.

Apparently, Captain Bolshev knew old earth Morse code - a feat unsurprising from the well-travelled man. He was signalling for assistance and communication, and Magellan's evaluation of the battle turned slightly in their favor.

Magellan was not worried the call would go entirely unanswered. As a matter of fact, he was certain help was already moving to Bolshev's side. The one infuriating curiosity of Magellan's life was that of all the people to surpass him in terms of understanding and quickly processing data, it wasn't a fellow scientist, visionary, or genius.

It was a messy-haired fighter pilot with no scientific background, understanding of the greater laws of the universe, or care for anything beyond the cockpit of his Wraith.

But in this instance - Magellan was glad he'd taught his friend morse code.

* * *

**Hello Everyone! This is Starcraftwoot, the singer/songwriter who... just kidding. I'm just the guy who writes cheesy fanfic.**

**So, this is the first part of the battle of Korhal. I apologize if it's a little cheesey or disorganized - it's my first time writing a proper space battle, and I wanted to make it so that the dynamics between the terran's navy and the star destroyers of Death squadron were easily understood. I did a bit too much tell and too little show, but I'm aiming to make the next chapter way better about that.**

**By now it should be obvious what I'm doing and where I want to go with this fic, but, if it isn't... This is going to be a long fic. I'm going to be exploring all the facets of the idea of the Galactic empire finding the Koprulu sector on it's fringes(along with why it's there in the first place) In later chapters, and I'm aiming for this to be a long-term fic that putters on long after the battle of Korhal.**

**Now, given this is going to be a long fic with lots of chapters, I'm going to do a Q and A, or just comment responses, In-chapter for future chapters, so send your questions/suggestions/etc. in a review, or a PM if you want them answered in the next chapter, with the answer posted at the bottom of the chapter.**

**If you want to do this but wish to remain anonymous, note me the question in a PM, state you'd prefer to keep your identity private, and I'll post your question as "Anonymous". Otherwise, I'm crediting your name.**

**There's very few restrictions in what you ask, though obviously outright flames and trolls will mostly be left out of this and if you're overly vulgar in your prose I won't post it. Keep any reviews you want to see on the bottom of the chapter the same rating as the fic - T for Teen.**

**This fic appears to be gaining a relatively good amount of popularity, and I really have to thank you guys. SC fics have felt a bit dead, and I was worried I had no audience left for them ^^;. Thank you for your support, and I hope I can make every single chapter better and better for you guys.**


	4. 4: The Battle Of Korhal, Part 2

Tom Kazansky had been working with the rest of his squadron to destroy the eyeballs plaguing the nearby battlecruisers - so far they'd had little success in stymieing the massive amount of fighters, but had at least managed to allow the Jackson's revenge to warp away, despite being crippled, and managed to shoot down a few more of the "odd-balls".

Tom supposed their enemy was testing new designs with this battle. "_That's fine. Even the better ships they send out don't last more than ten seconds in the ring with a wraith._" Tom thought with some pride.

Suddenly, a string of emissions, let out by a recently-warp shifted _Ragnarok, _caught his eye on the scanners, seeming to make a certain pattern.

"_Bolshev wouldn't be signalling like this for just anything. No old man in the Koprulu sector gets to be that old without an impressive pedigree behind him by being stupid.…_" Tom thought to himself.

"Squadron, we're going to take a hard left. Head for the Ragnarok. Any eyeball that gets in our way either gets scrapped immediately or left in the dust. Thrusters on max.

"_Something tells me this is the start of something horrible._"

* * *

Fighting their way through to Bolshev's battlecruiser was the easy part. The eyeball-fighters were like a swarm of bees, but they were mostly(and ineffectively) focused on the battlecruisers, which had enough armor to deal with them relatively easily.

The Wraiths in the battle, meanwhile, were allowed to strike often and harshly at the wedge-shaped capital ships, and their gemini missiles managed to score damage the eyeballs couldn't match. One of the wedge-shaped ships had been brought to a standstill from engine damage and seemed more than due for an explosion of - whatever it was that powered them - from the dangerous emissions coming from the engines.

What Eyeballs did come their way were either avoided or left with a few perforated holes through their fragile frames to think about. Kazansky had criticized Dunsil, but he knew one of the reasons he was on this mission was due to having low favor with the emperor himself, and while he knew nothing of command, he was definitely not a bad pilot.

"This is Private Tom Kazansky, Broadcasting on all frequencies. _Ragnarok_, You in range? I repeat, _Ragnarok,_ you in Range?" Kazansky asked, now a few hundred Kilometers away from the battlecruiser. He'd been trying to get a hold of Bolshev for minutes now, but the jamming technique of the Imperial star destroyers were effective, and Kazansky found himself wondering if he'd need to be close enough to smell Bolshev's breath before his signal would be picked up. "_Private_ Kazansky?" A familiar voice asked through his commsystem. "_This sounds like I've got quite the story to listen to after the battle - once we're finished saving the throne, that is._"

Kazansky sighed in relief.

That relief caught in his throat, however, when he heard Bolshev's full report. hundreds of thousands of troops, en route to Korhal.

"So, did you try shooting the carriers down?" Kazansky asked in a more serious tone.

"Of course. That is the source of the Ragnarok's current excessive redecorating." Bolshev responded, referring to the numerous scars and damages all along the hull of the _Ragnarok._ I'm not the first captain to discover this, I believe, but I am the only one who hasn't already gone down with the ship. The enemy clearly wants us blind to the coming invasion, and leaving the battle without interception is growing difficult for our battlecruisers. However… perhaps a squadron of fighters might work better?" Bolshev said with a knowing smile.

Kazansky couldn't contradict Bolshev's orders, due to the difference in their also wouldn't, because he knew Bolshev was right. still… "This is a suicide mission, you know that? The moment these freaks notice our ships leaving for Korhal, they'll be on our asses. We're probably not going to make it."

Bolshev responded with a slight grin. "Please… You're Tom Kazansky. You've piloted your way through worse minefields than this.

"I'm Tom Kazansky." Tom responded, glad this was a private comm between himself and Bolshev. "They're not. And I'll need the help of every single one of them to get through this."  
Bolshev responded in a more serious and muted tone. "You're correct. But at this point, it looks like we're all going to die regardless. We may as well put our lives to use... I will not force you."

Tom sighed. This wasn't a new conversation, a new pattern going through his head. "You don't have to. We're going. We're going to need a bit of a distraction for a while, and I'm guessing you have a plan cooked up anyway. Any chance you can give these triangle-ships something else to think about?" Tom asked.

"Indubitably. We have a plan… and when it's completed, we will focus on supporting you."

"Then rush to it old man.

* * *

_On the dark side of Korhal's nearest moon_…

Darrick Jones wiped the sweat from his forehead as he looked at the readings the listening post's sensor bank was giving him. What had started as a routine day looked to be turning into the largest Naval engagement in Terran history, and it looked like the Dominion was on the losing end.

It didn't bode well for the jobs - or, Darrick thought more realistically - lives of the people on the small outpost, especially when they'd entirely failed to catch the enemy fleet's entry. Apparently they used an entirely different form of FTL travel, one their sensors weren't equipped to pick up.

Darrick got up out of his plush chair to go get a cup of coffee, and find some peace among his coworkers.

Sitting at the coffee machine was Angie. He'd never liked Angie. She seemed to sit at the coffee machine all goddamn day, and while he had never seen her do work, the bitch had no problem snitching on anyone who slacked the slightest bit behind at work. He never did figure out how exactly she found out. Every. Single. Time.

Still, Angie was a co-worker, and part of being an employee, Darrick learned, was talking to people you hate politely and pretending you were friends. It was a technique built to stop the boring office atmosphere from becoming even more intolerable than it already was. So instead of saying "go fuck yourself", Darrick simply said. "How's it going, Angie?"

"To hell, from what the sensors are telling us."

"Lucky us, being set up this far away from the battle, huh?"  
Angie looked away from him, pretending to be very interested in the coffee cup. "My parents were on a refugee ship heading through there. Torn to pieces in the cross-fire. Lucky thing I survived."

Any venom Darrick had towards Angie retreated to the back of his mind for the moment. "I'm sorry."

"What do you think's going to happen?"

Darrick poured his own coffee, As Angie started to shiver. "I don't know, Angie. Hell, no matter what way this goes, we might even be able to keep our old jobs. These guys seem more like us than the protoss or zerg were. Even if they were… seemingly cruel, from that transmission."

Angie shook her head. "I don't know if I could work for scum like that. Not after this."

"Angie, we've got the choice of-"

a scraping sound, far too loud and far too near, interrupted Darrick, and he froze in horror, slowly turning towards the door. "Is it the invaders?" Angie asked quietly, tears starting to form in her eyes.

Darrick just kept staring at the door, not bothering to answer, and soon found out that, no, it was not the invaders.

The thing that appeared was far more familiar.

It looked like a Hydralisk, but Darrick knew they only grew up to eight feet in height. The massive snake-like creature that had literally ripped off a good chunk of the wall by pulling a hole open with it's scythes was at least twelve, and seemed far more… animated than a Hydralisk. It's eyes were a bloodshot red, and filled with a life that seemed feral and crazed.

It turned towards them, and Darrick knew they were going to die. He felt Angie tug on his shirt, and he hugged her, bracing himself as the monster charged forward. Any thoughts about his opinion towards Angie left him as he felt the simple need not to die alone take over.

* * *

Imperial captain Blitzar Harrsk rubbed his head as he watched the cloaked fighters fire damaging volley after volley to death squadrons star destroyers. the damage they had done to the star destroyers were already going to cost millions of credits in repairs, and the loss of a star destroyer had already made this the most costly imperial engagement he had ever seen - and Harrsk was a veteran.

He just hoped his plan worked, assuming the stealth-fighters hadn't the shielding the battlecruisers apparently had to Ion weapons. He suspected the fact their armor was so thick and seemingly bereft of electronics had helped their case, with his ion weapons often draining less energy from the enemy ships than they were losing him.

With some modifications to the firing method of the ion cannons, and a change of certain components, however…

"Captain Harrsk! We can fire on your mark!" his first officer said. "The ion weapons have been changed according to your specification.

"Fire starboard. That's where I'd bet the bastards are right now." Harrsk said with a slight growl. "on my mark…

The Ion weapons charged, and Harrsk grinned as he could feel the hum of the star destroyer underneath him.

blue streams of light formed from the star destroyer's cannon, a river of color moving so fast it simply appeared as an instantly formed strand of Cerulean light rather than actually being fired from the ship.

These were not the usual blasts that could be seen streaking from the star destroyer's cannons, however. The blue strands of light, fired without being given the required amount of stabilizing solution, dispersed into an azure smokescreen that covered an area as large as the star destroyer itself. The sky blue cloud of gas dispersed in a matter of seconds, fading gradually from view as the plasma scattered across space.

When the light show was over, a dozen gray fighters appeared in front of him, robbed of their cloaking by the ion discharge. Harrsk was correct after all - they required energy to perform their cloaking feature, and their Shielding was either nonexistent or not enough to handle even a spread ion discharge from the star destroyers.

"Focus Starboard and central firepower on those fighters, and set a TIE squadron to tail them as well. I want them to be slagged in the next five minutes. Officer Antilles, send a message to the other ships, especially the executor. They need to know how to combat these fighters." Harrsk said with a grin. If nothing else, he'd just ensured a promotion for this.

"Sir!"

Harrsk turned to see a small, heavier officer - Davis, if he recalled right. Ridiculous name. "I"m getting some irregular readings. One of their ships seems to be firing at nothing, sir."

That was strange. Blitzar didn't like strange. He had to assume the captain wasn't an idiot, but why would it be firing at nothing. It could simply be an error with the ship, but it could also be.

"Show me the readings."

At first, Blitzar thought it was simply nonsensically firing towards the sky, but looking a little closer at the readings themselves, rather than what they translated to in terms of laser activity, Blitzar saw the issue. It was incredibly similar to a code system Harrsk had encountered on a mission near Mon Calamari, though it must have been using a different style than the Mon Calamari code system.

"Damned to hell, they've figured out a way around the _Pride Of Tarlandia_s signal jamming!" Blitzar yelled. The star destroyer in question was built specifically for jamming enemy communications and coordination. But it couldn't jam a communication as simple as a primitive smoke signal. While he couldn't read the code itself, he knew it could mean only bad things for it to appear - just as Vader had sent the order to deploy the carriers.

"Has that ship been close enough to have communications contact with any other?"

"Some small fighters, but that's it. Perhaps they gave it orders to assist them with engagement?"  
"...Or they're planning to warn the planetary defense force of our inbound ground forces…." Blitzar said, scratching his chin. "We can't allow that. Full speed ahead. blockade the planet. I don't care what it takes, put the _Ithmar's fist_s engines to full-speed, then bring them as far past that as you can without blowing up the ship." Harrsk said, pacing the ship. "and without compromising the sensors."

* * *

The battle had turned even more in the imperials favor, As Harrsks Ion cannon modifications spread throughout the fleet. As it turned out, the wraiths produced a signature while flying that, while very indistinct and vague, allowed for a consistent hit with the modified ion discharge's massive blast radius.

While the blasts caused the ion cannons to need a half-minute to recharge after each salvo, it had made the Wraith fighters far less invincible, and while damage was still being registered on the star destroyers, the capacity to strip them of their cloak had allowed the star destroyers to destroy entire squadrons of wraith fighters looking for easy prey. Even now, however, the _Stalker_ had exploded due to engine damage, and the _Accuser_ seemed to be taking heavy damage as well.

Using conservatively applied psionic power and even more conservative parasites on the star destroyers, the cerebrate had watched the entire battle, and slowly learned more about both sides. Amazing, that these intruders were themselves primarily Terran. Clearly, the cerebrate thought, Terrans diverged far more than the protoss did in shape and form. In all reality, they seemed much closer to the zerg.

The Cerebrate checked on the listening post he had captured with Daggoth's aid, making sure the mutalisks he had created were hatching as scheduled.

"Cerebrate." Daggoth's voice echoed in his mind. "In completing this task for the overmind, we should make sure to cripple these imperial forces. And the terrans nearby, as well. Our enemies are divided, and we should crush them while they weaken one another.

The Cerebrate looking in confusion to Daggoth's forces, and his own. While they'd each created hundreds of mutalisks already using the resources the small moon had provided, they hadn't managed to create remotely enough forces to destroy either fleet, even pre-occupied as they were.

"You are a Cerebrate. You were not born merely to crush your opponent's forces with superior numbers. You are meant to bring tactical cunning to the swarm. Think on what you've learned of

this new opponent, and use it to find an exploitable weakness!"

The Cerebrate struggled with the idea, trying to force it's mind to think in a way as to allow it to accomplish this task. It's objectives had never been so vague before.

After a moment, Daggoth added "If you are capable of creating a tactic to deal with this, the overmind will be pleased. He is pleased by any addition to the swarm's evolution.

The Cerebrate thought about that, before taxing itself further. Perhaps it should look to the past, in order to see if old techniques could be evolved to fit this purpose. The Cerebrate had often looked to and then corrected the flaws in, or otherwise enhanced, older strategies used by other zerg.

Images of metal merging with Zerg flesh, and Terran materials serving the swarm's purpose, echoed in it's head, and as they did ideas flitted through the Cerebrate's own head, ideas regarding the modification of the queen strain and the possibility of…

Near the Cerebrate's cave, Daggoth felt the other cerebrate's mental focus, and it's clarity far surpassed that he had seen from any cerebrate before now - save perhaps himself, and it had taken him many centuries to gain its own level of tactical focus. Daggoth had not been lying when it had said the Overmind was pleased by any addition to the swarm's evolution, though he had not entirely been talking about the cerebrate's task. Indeed, Daggoth knew it was also his own, prodding this cerebrate to work harder.

He now understood why the Overmind had paired himself and Zasz with the young cerebrate. It's need for attention and thirst for growth, while not unprecedented in the swarm, had never been expressed so directly and with such an innocence to it before. It's desires for contact and approval by others, Daggoth realized, were terran concepts, and as Daggoth thought about it, the shyness of the cerebrate towards it's superiors, the increased reliance on emotional responses, the fact it's emotional state had such an impact on it's young mind's logical centers… All of these were terran patterns that didn't exist in cerebrates.

The Overmind had made this cerebrate to look after the psionic terran it prized - perhaps, then, it had used it's knowledge of terran neuro-biology to test out new evolutions in it's newest cerebrate. Using Zasz as a personality that might give negative reinforcement or an overbearing personality that would cause negative responses, he weighed it against the positive reinforcement that could come from a senior cerebrate, or the Overmind himself. Testing the drawbacks that came with both, he looked to conclude if such traits could be beneficial to the swarm.

Therefore, it was his duty in this mission to make sure that the Cerebrate's progression continued, and that it's tactical ability further developed and evolved. Moreover, Daggoth found himself personally interested in how far this new addition to the swarm might go if pushed, and found himself impressed with the Cerebrate and it's potential.

Yes, if correctly prodded and supported, this Cerebrate could potentially become one of the swarm's best assets…

* * *

Tom kept his breathing under tight control as his squadron struck into and through the squadron of Eyeballs that hadn't noticed his squadron coming from behind in cloak. The loss of wraith cloaking had crippled a lot of the dominion fighter squadrons in orbit, and at least thirty different squadrons had been shot down by now. The squadrons left were mostly veteran pilots who, like Kazansky, had worked for years before the apollo reactors had become a common addition to their fighters, and knew how to "fly without cover". still, the wraiths and their eyeball-shaped opponents had managed to make this a very thickly contested area, and it was easier to note the stretches of space free of laser discharges or exploding missiles.

Tom guided his squadron through as quickly as they dared, but he swore as a fighter to his left caught alight on his left wing, and a small shot zinged at the structual integrity of his own wraith, clipping just above his belly-mounted burst laser. A soft yellow tone colored that part of the wireframe on his HUD, and he knew they were going to take even more losses as they attempted to fight through the muck of fighters.

Another Wraith exploded in a fiery conflagration on his right, and Tom knew that the chances of any of them making it through this firefight were currently far too low. Frankly, he was unaware if they stood any-

a trio of explosions struck to the right of Tom's fighter, and his cameras confirmed a group of TIE's tailing his wraiths had suddenly exploded.

"Don't worry about it, Kazansky. 183rd squadron's Sergeant Sam Hill, currently serving on the DSF _Ragnarok_ . Not sure what your chit-chat with our captain was, but it looked important. We'll give you an escort out of this firefight."

Kazansky sighed in relief. They apparently hadn't been able to maintain communication with the _Ragnarok_, which made this sort of dedication to their captain all the more impressive.

"Just make sure to save some for later. I haven't iced nearly enough of these space-crates they call fighters yet." Kazansky countered with a smile. "We're going to divert power to the engines - think you can make enough of a mess to keep them off our tail?"

"And here I thought you were going to ask for something hard."

Captain Blitzar Harrsk frowned. His TIEs had been nearly lost to a man after that last scrimmage, and it appeared he wouldn't be capable of holding his opponent with just starfighters.

"This has gone on quite long enough. Bring the ship around towards the planet. Run an intercept course for that fighter squadron. Those fighters will be sorry they had ever had the misfortune of crossing the empire."

Blitzar silently looked out the bridge's window as he thought, planned, for this confrontation. Harrsk didn't expect too much of a struggle from a single squadron of even these upgraded fighters… but he also refused to lose due to simple overconfidence. He would wait carefully on their approach, make sure they had no way through, and blast them from the sky as they tried and failed to escape his grasp. With just the slightest amount of care and some careful maneuvers, they would be his…

Kazansky turned a hard right, evading the TIE's on a near-collision course with his ship. The TIEs his squadron were fighting seemed to be elite pilots, using faster and more powerful versions of the eyeball-craft he'd seen elsewhere, and he guessed the strangely-shaped eyeballs were proper air superiority craft, rather than the more standardized craft his pilots had been facing earlier.

Tom's squadron had no problem taking them on - Dunsil had just destroyed a pair of these craft with a few well-aimed laser blasts - What bothered him was the fact they were focused less on taking out his squadron and more concerned with pinning them down. Any move his squadron had taken to attempt to break away from the fight - even when it would cost the opponent good ships - had been stopped.

It didn't take Kazansky long to figure out why, checking his sensors - a large craft was moving towards them, in a manner that made it's intent unmistakable. "_It just can't be easy, can it?_" Kazansky thought to himself. While the other squadron's ships were unmistakably weaker than their own, there were a lot of them, and their pilots were pretty good. They could pin down Kazansky's ships long enough for that wedge ship to blast them to smithereens.

Tom thought about their options, as Dunsil broke in on the comm.  
"What should we do, captain?"

"Keep firing, we need to… Actually, Squadron, disengage. We're going to turn on full-cloak."  
"We won't get far enough to get out of this cloud of fighters."

"That's what I'm banking on."

* * *

"they've cloaked… So they're going to try to evade us with that overdone trick. Disappointingly easy." Harrsk said with a grin. "Keep on the intercept course, and charge up the ion discharge. They can't escape us. and get those TIE's on intercept for when they reappear. They'll be attempting to skirt past us - so make sure you inform those pilots as to why our aim is feared across the galaxy."

Harrsk watched the sensors as well as the windows, as the whine of the Ion discharge rang throughout the ship. the Rainbow spectacle repeated, And Harrsk looked out in hopes of catching the fleeing ships for a few seconds before they were destroyed.

What he saw… Wasn't the image of retreating ships. Instead, he saw a group of eight fighters heading directly for his bridge, as his TIE interceptors clumsily turned around to pursue them, not expecting the enemy fighters to head directly towards a capital ship. Who would!  
"All cannons on that ship, immediately open fire!" Harrsk yelled.

"The interceptors are directly behind them. They'll get caught in the crossfire.

A barrage of missiles struck all too close to the bridge, and Harrsk's curse was unheard as a second barrage behind them - that of laser fire from the Interceptors attempting to hit the maneuverable craft - followed. Ordinarily such fire wouldn't do significant damage to a star destroyer's shields, but when fired after such devastating missiles hit the capital ship… Incompetence.

"I said fire! And give orders to the interceptors to veer out of the way of fire! Whether or not they respond quickly enough, you will fire all cannons on those starfighters!" Harrsk yelled. They needed to end this farce of a battle quickly, or they would be facing death themselves. He had made a minor miscalculation with this plan… if only he'd kept just a bit more distance, he…

This was no time for second-guessing. And regardless of minor upsets, there was no chance Blitzar Harrsk would let his prey escape.

* * *

Kazansky fired both of his gemini missiles before going into a sharp turn, bringing his fighter from sitting just above the side of the ship to directly below it, his craft currently turned upside-down relative to the Star destroyer itself.

"Team, We're going after the engines next. Attack pattern Alpha-Epsilon five. You might wanna put a bit of power into your shields while you're at it. those Eyeballs are hungry for the chance to get a clear shot at some wraiths today."

"I haven't done this maneuver since the academy, Kazansky."

"Well that's probably why you suck at it, Stevens."

"Ouch. Sorry I touched a nerve, old-timer. I'm sure you practiced this maneuver every morning on the way to school back in your day."

Kazansky went to say something back, but as explosions rocked the back of his ship, he decided to let Stevens have his terrible retort for now. There was no way Stevens was going to hear him over all the different, screaming noises assaulting their ears at the moment, and Kazansky wasn't about to bother wasting energy with it while he threaded his wraith through the barrage of fire. There must have been dozens of shots to dodge with every turn he made, and for all the damage the gemini missiles were doing, they couldn't manage to get a hit past the shielding on the dozens of turrets focused on making his squadron's life a living hell.

Stevens' engines began sputtering - Tom didn't know from what, he hadn't seen the hit - and his ship exploded with a high-pitched squeal. Tom had never known a wraith's explosion to sound quite like that before. A young recruit by the name of Casey was the next to go, and Tom knew it was time to use their trump.

"Alright, you guys got the jury-rig going?"

Tom heard nothing but affirmatives.

"Tau-Alpha four. And be ready with those buttons."

Tom banked towards the other side of the ship, appearing right in front of it, before checking the energy gauge attached to his HUD, and pressed the button to cloak.

"Make peace with your imaginary friend of choice, boys. we're engaging."

Tom pulled his wraith around in an almost 180 degree turn, heading directly for the top portion of the wedge-ship, and began to wish he had an imaginary friend of his own to believe in.

* * *

"Sir, we're detecting strange readings from the…"

Harrsk cut off the officer with a simple hand-wave, before pointing forward with his hand. "Fire!" He yelled, as the wraiths appeared directly at the bow of his ship. Harrsk had no idea what plan they might have that would involve appearing so far away from anything important on the ship, but he didn't want to give them the chance to show him.

Turbolaser fire jetted towards the enemy fighters, the first barrage neatly evaded by all but one of the incoming ships, the unfortunate pilot immediately picked off from his ejection seat by one of the point defense guns.

The rest, however, immediately vanished.

"Blast! Can their drives regenerate their energy that quickly! Or… Ready an ion discharge. Take them out of cloak!"

The ion cannons came online now, and all turned in the assumed flight path of the wraith fighters. blue mist obscured his vision, and Harrsk felt he understood their ploy now. They felt the obscuring effects of the ion discharge might keep them safe. A pity… Harrsk's sensors were more than enough to punch through the effects of the depleted plasma.

Or so Harrsk thought. He saw the wraiths come through clearly on their scanners, watched their ships come into vision on the sensors, detecting attack paths… before immediately cloaking again.

"What the hell is going on. Why isn't the discharge keeping their systems offline."

"Sir… the discharge didn't take them offline in the first place. they de-cloaked a moment before the discharge was fired, it seems. It taxed their energy, but our scanners detect they were far from empty."

"They've isolated their cloaking systems from the rest of the fighter - created a buffer for them somehow. As long as they don't have their cloaking on…" Harrsk realized the issue. "Fire all cannons on probable flight paths, increase shielding to the bridge!" Harrsk yelled. "They wanted to get rid of our discharge before taking out the command deck! fire another ion discharge as soon as it's online! Officer Antilles, set our engines for a short-range jump. We may have to make a tactical retreat if…"

The ion discharges fired again, and this time, not only did Wraiths not resurface in front of Harrsk, but nothing appeared at all on the sensors.

"What the hell's going on!"  
A crash and rumble in the ship resounded through the ship, and Harrsk felt his heart sink.  
"Sir, the engines…"

Sure enough, the sensors that were still online showed several wireframes of different fighter ships, sitting directly behind the ship's engines, the engines of the _Ithmar's Fist_ whose shields had been taxed even before this confrontation began, that this wing of fighters had previously struck repeatedly, and which, in 3d space, merely required a horizontal turn around the width of the star destroyer to have a clear shot at.

Harrsk heard a warning Klaxon resound throughout his ship, saw a sensor recreation of a barrage of missiles strike the engines of the Ithmar's fist, and knew this was the last time he would see the ship.

Not even bothering to say a word to his crew, Harrsk ran to the escape pods, despite knowing he had only a few seconds at best. He heard a dull roar shortly after clearing the door, following behind him with a wail that sounded to Harrsk like the souls of the damned trying to reach him, and managed two more steps before the explosion reached him, the explosion wracking his body in pain for just a few brief seconds, before Harrsk lost consciousness entirely.

Tom couldn't believe it. For such a large, seemingly impossible to destroy ship, his team had managed to fight through the fleet, just barely managing to defeat his opponent.

"First and second round's on me when we get back, ladies and gents." Tom said into his comm, with a chuckle to himself, before turning his cloaking back on. There was still a lot of space to cover until they reached comm range of Korhal, and plenty of fighters still willing to get in the way.

* * *

Korhal IV, outskirts of Augustgrad:

"Agent X2IIJLN"

"Copy that." A disembodied voice in the sand replied, de-cloaking. the Voice revealed itself soon after to belong to a masked and covered man in a skintight special ops suit - One of the terran Dominions ghost operatives.

"We believe a covert landing may have been made in your area. somewhere within a few kilometers of your location. We need you to survey the area - psychically and physically - and then report back. Copy?"  
"Loud and clear." Agent X2IIJLN responded with a hidden smirk, keeping his cloak off to save power. He'd need to conserve his psionic energy, especially if the ghost operative found it necessary to use it to find his opponent or teek a bullet or two. He had a feeling this had to do with the invaders currently blasting the fleet into slag directly above him, and while his psionic scan found no other minds nearby, that gave no certainty when just about everything regarding these new invaders was shrouded in mystery.

Moving out on foot, Agent X2IIJLN was just about to give up on the entire chase before hearing the clank of metal on rock. "_What the hell is that?_" Agent X2IIJLN thought to himself, looking at the grey-armored soldiers that marched across the barren desert that encompassed most of the half-restored throneworld. The sound of booted feet crushing through the sand was audible, and X2IIJLN knew that no human could possibly weigh that much. Probing the area with his mind, a jarring void confirmed his suspicions that these were robotic in nature. While his larger-scale scan could be avoided by biologicals who knew how to mask their minds, finding nothing at all while knowing exactly where to look didn't happen unless there was simply nothing there in the first place.

As X2IIJLN went to trigger his headset, however, a snap-hiss from behind caused him to turn around. What he saw in front of him was a black-armored nightmare, an armored and devilish colossus of a man.

This close, and paying attention, X2IIJLN could finally feel the being in front of him despite his psychic masking, and what he felt was akin to a nuclear bomb of psionic force, hardly contained and seeming to almost suffocate him by proximity alone.

X2IIJLN brought his gun up, firing with a cry as he began to panic, only for the figure to simply walk forward, each bullet simply stopping a moment before it would have hit the figure in front of him.

What seemed eerily like a demonic version of a protoss psi blade cut through his gun's barrel as the figure simply appeared in front of him, closing the distance in only a short pair of seconds, before pointing to the ghost operative's throat.

focusing his mind, the ghost hoped to catch his opponent off-guard, releasing a burst of psychic energy meant to stun his opponent for a brief second.

The energy simply glanced off, however, splashing away from the figure like water striking stone.  
"Pathetic. What little talent in the force you have is wasted on gimmicks. Your ilk are clearly of no concern." the figure said with a cutting, basal tone that seemed to command respect. X2IIJLN felt as though he were being appraised by a god - but a twisted, distorted one.

Appraised, and found wanting.

With a final, strangled cry, Agent X2IIJLN Threw a simple, focused punch, the muscle fibers intrinsic to his suit enhancing his strength to ten times that of a normal human.

The punch was never allowed to actually strike his opponent though, as X2IIJLN found himself carted into the air as though he were a child, choking as his opponent held him in place. The oxygen left his body as his throat cracked with a sickening pop, before his body was allowed to collapse to the sand below him.

Then, with another snap-hiss, the figure walked away, joining the Dark troopers that accompanied him as they walked towards the Augustgrad Palace.

* * *

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**Well, I've kept you people waiting more than long enough, haven't I? Hopefully the length makes up for it just a little bit. Before I get into anything else, I apologize for the delay - I'm doing NaNoWriMo at the moment, as well, so writing this took second priority. Unfortunately, that does mean you shouldn't expect chapter 5 before November's over, but I will do my best to get a pair of december chapters done and uploaded! **

**Now that that's been established, I just wanted to say thank you to everyone currently reading this story. I started this intending it to mostly be a project just to improve my writing and get used to writing constantly and consistently, and it wasn't done with the intention or the expectation of becoming my most followed piece on . You've all been very supportive, and I hope this project just keeps getting better and better in everyone's opinion, as it continues on. **

**This was a fairly tough chapter for me to do, what with the constant musical chairs from viewpoint to viewpoint. I've attempted to try and keep respectful of both sides' intelligence in these chapters, and I hope it shows. The last thing I want to do is show blatant favoritism to one side or another(though my love for SC will probably leak through regardless). I also hope no one finds the constant jumping from perspective to perspective too jarring or difficult to follow - Once the Battle For Korhal section is over, I'll likely have more time to show a little less action and more characterization.**

**Now to the review responses:**

-Feldoran

_I was wary of this story at first, as far to often people make one side or the other ridiculously overpowered, but so far this has done well in terms of balance. I can honestly say I am excited to see where this will go even if I find the fact that your crossed off Luke distasteful._

**Yeah, this is something I definitely felt a little off about doing. There are a couple reasons I wrote Luke off, but the main one is honestly just that keeping the rebel alliance, and Luke, intact, would have made the plot move far too smoothly - the Empire is already set up to fall by that point, so adding hostile aliens into that warring mix would not have made for that balanced of a plot, and would have had me regurgitating just a little too much of what episode 5 and 6 had already set up. I get it, though, and despite this I will say that even with Luke out of the picture, Han, Leia, Chewie, etc. should still be expected to feature here and do so heavily. I intend to keep viewpoints and the like balanced, and as a result I will make sure that the rebels, diminished or not, will still have a presence in this fic.**

-Thejackinati275

_Ah yes... There is nothing quite like the thrill of watching Imperial Star Destroyers with their Gigaton yield Turbo lasers blasting away at their opponents..._

_This has been a well balanced story so far and i hope to see more from you_

**Thanks, I hope you enjoy what you see from this chapter. Star destroyers are quite terrifying, aren't they?**

**Alright, I'll close off these notes here - There's not much else I can say that wouldn't be spoilers - But I'll say again that I'm thankful for every view, favorite, follow, and review you guys throw my way, and that you guys really do make my day :D. I'll see all of you in the next chapter of Star Wars: The Koprulu Wars**


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